


Demon Seed

by rizlowwritessortof



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral (male receiving, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizlowwritessortof/pseuds/rizlowwritessortof
Summary: Demon!Dean stops in for a drink and decides he wants you. He's very persuasive. Written for @evansrogerskitten's Hottest Dean Challenge on Tumblr. Many thanks to @mrs-squirrel-chester for being my long-suffering, ever-encouraging and completely lovely beta <3





	Demon Seed

Working two jobs really does suck the life out of you. But… gotta pay the bills. It’s a Wednesday night, so the bar won’t be packed or anything, shouldn’t be too bad. And if it’s not busy, Bill said you can close at 11.

You hang up your jacket in the back room, let your hair loose from the pins that have held it in place all day at the office, and pop the top button on your blouse – much better for tips. You step into the bathroom, business skirt off, tight jeans on, quick once-over in the mirror and good to go. Probably nobody in there to tempt out of a few extra dollars anyway, but – you never know.

You step behind the bar, letting your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, smiling as Dave greets you. “Hope you brought a book. This place is dead tonight,” he quips, and you nod.

“I was afraid of that. Oh, well – we get paid either way, right?” He grins and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“It’s all yours, babe. Catch you later.”

You turn to survey the lay of the land, sighing at the lack of patrons sitting at the tables in the place. Old Jake will be here shortly, like every night, the only real regular you have. You put away the few glasses still sitting by the sink, peek into the cooler to make sure it’s full, and pour yourself a shot of peach schnapps, downing it in one smooth swallow, then grab a soda from the cooler.

“What’s your flavor?”

You turn, surprised. Words fail you for a moment as your eyes come to rest on the most breath-taking specimen of a man you have ever seen. “What?” you stammer out, and his perfectly shaped lips curve slowly into a one-sided smile.

“The drink – what flavor?” The timbre of his voice vibrates through your body, and you feel your face flush a bit.

“Peach. Peach schnapps. I’m so sorry, what can I get you?”

“Oh, don’t be sorry. Two shots here, and he’ll have something fancy with your tiniest umbrella.” He jerks his head towards a shorter, darker man sitting on the stool a couple of spots down the bar. You get to work, painfully conscious of those stunning green eyes following your every move.

“House regular whiskey? Or top shelf?” you ask, pausing as you set up the glasses.

“Best you’ve got.”

You mix a Mai Tai, complete with umbrella, for the older man as requested, then fill two shot glasses with the best whiskey in the place. You serve the fancy drink first, receiving an amused nod of thanks in return, then turn to set the shots in front of Adonis. Before you can move away, he puts a hand on your wrist, leaning close.

“Mind if I have a taste of that peach?” he asks, the rumble of his low tone zipping through you right down to your toes.

“Oh, yeah, let me just grab it…” You try to turn, intending to fetch the peach schnapps, but his grip tightens just enough to stop you, and you look back to him in confusion.

“Not what I meant.” He stands – he’s tall, lean and solid, and when your eyes manage to leave the expanse of firm, muscled chest in front of you, he’s got a hand behind your neck and his lips are brushing over yours. Your eyes close, a tiny gasp escapes you and his tongue sweeps between your parted lips, over your tongue, a soft, gentle suction as he pulls back, nibbling just a little on your bottom lip. He hums a little, the vibration making you grab the bar with your free hand as your knees wobble, and your eyes drift open as he sits back down, releasing your wrist. “Delicious.”

You’re still gaping at him when his companion speaks, his accent clipped and impatient. “Dean. We have business to attend to.”

Dean – apparently Adonis’ name is Dean – is gazing into your eyes, unconcerned about the other man’s irritation. “Don’t mind Crowley. That stick up his ass makes him cranky.”

Your voice finally comes back to you, and you stammer out a protest. “Okay,  _Dean_ … that was…”

“Rude? Uncalled for?” You glare at him, but he gives you a lopsided grin that, again, takes your breath away. “Fun, though - right?”

“Look, I’m working here…”

“What time do you close?”

Your jaw snaps shut, irritation beginning to bloom. “That depends on business, and it’s none of yours.”

A full-on smile lights up his handsome face, genuine amusement shining in his eyes. “Kitten does have claws.”

“And teeth. And a blackjack behind the bar.” Those perfect lips form an ‘O’, his eyebrows raised, and then he chuckles, and you are getting downright pissed off at yourself for the reaction your body has to the man. “Just keep your hands to yourself, all right?”

He lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender, still smiling, and you turn away as your regular takes a seat at the other end of the bar. You’ve never been so glad to see the old man, and you grab his usual brand of beer from the cooler, relief washing through you as you head his way.

“That guy botherin’ you, honey?” he asks, putting an arthritic hand over yours in concern. “Want me to talk to ‘im?”

You smile and give his hand a squeeze. “No, Jake, don’t worry. I can handle myself. He just thinks he’s all that and a coupon for a free car wash.”

“You need my help, you just holler,” he says as you remove the cap from his beer.

“Will do, Jake. Thanks.”

The rest of the night goes by without incident. Even though you serve the two strangers several more times, you stay well out of reach and ‘Dean’ never tries to touch you again – although the condescending smirk never really leaves his face. By eleven o’clock, everyone is gone, and you gratefully lock the doors.

You return from the stock room, a twelve-pack in each hand, and they drop with a loud thud to the floor as that smoky voice startles a shout from you. “Hey, Peaches.”

“What the hell?! How did you – did you hide out in here until I locked up? I’m calling the cops.” You have your cell phone in hand, pausing for just a second as he holds up his hands.

“Not looking for trouble, sweetheart. After that sample earlier, I was just craving another taste. You’re not interested, then I’m outta here.”

“You should really try to get over yourself, mister.”

“Dean. The name’s Dean. And I just have a thing for a beautiful woman who doesn’t realize how damn hot she really is.” You shoot him an incredulous look, still shaking from the fright he’d given you. “You think I’m lying? I got hard the second I laid eyes on you, Peaches.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want.” You’re still glaring at him, and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Look, I know you don’t trust me. But I’m just lookin’ to show you, and me, a good time. Just for tonight. No strings, no drama. All night I kept thinking about that kiss, and how I wanted to do it again.” He’s moving towards you now, slowly, and you take a step back, forgetting the beer that just landed near your feet. You trip, feel yourself falling, but a strong arm catches you, pulling you back upright as he pushes the twelve-packs away with one foot. “You can leave 911 on speed dial if you want. I don’t wanna hurt you. And if you say so, I’m outta here. But I’d really rather stay.”

The sensible portion of your brain is screaming at you to kick, punch, shove, get away. The rest of you is quaking, excited beyond anything you’ve ever felt before, and when he leans closer, you just can’t find the strength to resist. Your arms hang loose at your sides as he pulls you closer, tilting you back a little as his lips move against yours, his tongue tracing over your lips. Searing heat rushes through your veins as you open to him, his nearness sending your head spinning. You blindly reach to drop your phone on the bar and raise your arms to his shoulders, your fingers digging in, and with a growl he crushes your body against his, one hand burying itself in your hair.

He kisses you until you have no coherent thought left, pulling away for a moment as you both pant for air. “Anyplace in here to get more comfortable?” he asks, his eyes glowing as he traces your jaw line with his knuckles.

“Not much. There’s an old sofa in the office…”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” he says, taking your hand, and you stare up at him for a few seconds, mesmerized by his perfect features and the hunger you see there. Then you take a deep breath and clasp his hand, moving to lead him towards the back of the bar.

You walk into the office and he closes the door behind you. You can barely draw breath as you turn to face him, and his intense stare does little to help. He moves closer, his hands coming to cradle your face as his lips take yours again, and you can feel him smile a little as a helpless noise escapes into your kiss. He continues kissing you as he lets his hands trail slowly downward, your buttons popping loose one by one. He raises his head, his eyes fixed on the opening of your shirt as his hands move to shift it off your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms and to the floor. He draws his breath in, a quiet hiss between his teeth as he gazes down at you, his fingers trailing over the soft mounds above the burgundy lace bra you had put on that morning.

“You wear this to work?” he asks, and you take in a trembling breath as his fingers continue their languid exploration.

“Not… not usually. I need to do laundry…”

“Oh, I’m not complaining, sweetheart. But if your boss knew what was under that shirt, he’d never get any work done.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, and his hands slip down, resting for just a second at your waist before he moves to undo the button of your jeans. The zipper slides down slowly, and he groans as he sees the matching thong beneath the denim. “Are you sure you weren’t planning on seducing someone tonight?”

You let out a soft, nervous laugh as he pushes your jeans down over your hips, letting you slip out of your shoes and wriggle them the rest of the way off. You can feel yourself blush as he lets his eyes roam over you, and he bites at his lip a little before he speaks, his voice hushed. “Turn around once for me, baby girl.”

He swears softly under his breath as you spin slowly, then takes your hand and pulls you a step closer. “You look so damn good, I don’t know if I want you to take it off yet.” He lifts a finger to trace the shape of your lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. “You ever use this pretty mouth on someone’s cock?” he asks, and you draw a shaky breath before nodding. “Did you like it?” You shiver a little, nodding hesitantly once more, and a faint shadow of a smile ghosts across his lips. “You might be the death of me, sweetheart,” he whispers roughly, bending to reach behind you and tossing a throw pillow from the old sofa to the floor at his feet. “How about you get down on your knees and show me?”

He takes your hand, helping lower you to your knees, then puts a finger beneath your chin to tilt your face up. His eyes narrow a little, and he shakes his head. “Fucking gorgeous.” His thumb brushes over your cheek, and he just stares at you for a moment. “Just take your time. We’ve got all night.”

You nod, still looking up at him, and reach up to take his hand in yours. You kiss his fingertips, one by one, and then watch his jaw clench as you suck the tip of his middle finger into your mouth, teasing it with your tongue, then sucking hard as you pull it back out. He moans a little, and for the first time since this started, you feel a surge of confidence. You move your gaze to the bulge in his jeans, reaching for the button with slightly shaking hands and popping it free. You slide the zipper down and he exhales in relief at the release of pressure. “See what you do to me, sweetheart?” he rasps out, then hisses a little as you run a finger down his length before reaching for the waist of his boxer briefs.

A part of you is reeling at the thought that you are half naked in the back room with a complete stranger, one that seems to have an aura of danger surrounding him. But as you pull his boxers down slowly, letting his cock spring free and bounce gently against his belly, a thrill goes through you at how wicked you feel, how much you want to make him desperate for you. He is well-endowed, a little intimidating, but you push his clothing down his strong thighs and look up at him beneath your lashes. He’s staring at you intently, his lips parted and his chest rising and falling with each breath. Your eyes move back down, focusing on the drop of precome glistening at the tip, and you lean in, lapping it from him with a flick of your tongue, watching the muscles of his abdomen tighten in response.

You rest your hands on his sturdy thighs, leaning forward to run your tongue around the head of his cock, then take it between your lips and suckle at it gently. He moans, gut-deep, one hand landing on your head, his fingers threading through your hair. His reaction spurs you on, and you pull back, laving him from root to tip with your tongue until you’ve tasted every glorious inch. He’s panting harder now, his fingers tightening their grip on your hair, but he’s letting you drive and you are reveling in your power over him. You move one hand to his shaft, taking him into your mouth again, bobbing your head to take a little more in each time, sucking and wriggling your tongue over him with each move upwards. You begin to feel him at the back of your throat, taking him as deep as you can manage and holding him inside while you increase the suction for as long as you can, then backing up enough to catch your breath. He’s losing a little of his control now, pulling you forward, holding you down for a split second longer than you would have on your own, and your excitement grows, the throbbing between your thighs almost painful. You reach down to cup his sac, squeezing and gently manipulating his balls as you continue, until an animalistic growl emits from his throat and he begins to thrust into your mouth, holding you in place. Your nails dig into his thigh a little as you completely give up control, letting his need drive him into you deep, your eyes watering and your lungs burning.

“I’m gonna come, sweetheart, right in that pretty little mouth of yours,” he groans, and then he does, hot spurts of semen shooting down your throat and filling your mouth until it leaks out the corners a little. He releases you, pulling slowly away as you pant for air, wiping the back of your hand across your mouth. He takes your hand, helping you to your feet and yanking you hard against his chest as he crushes his lips to yours, one hand still wrapped in your hair and the other gripping your ass. You are the one moaning now, aching for your own release, and your response to his kiss is primal, your nails digging into his skin as you grind yourself against him.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna take good care of you,” he growls into your kiss, slipping his fingers beneath your thong and tugging, pulling the thoroughly damp lace tight against your clit. You cry out softly, and he tugs hard once more, then steps back, turning you away from him. “On the couch, baby.”

You drop down to the sofa, your head spinning a little. You’re almost whimpering at the surging intensity of your desire, and it’s beginning to frighten you a little. “Dean…” you begin, and an evil smile curves his sensuous lips.

“Starting to feel it? That first dose of demon seed powering up your need for me? Intense, isn’t it?” He drops to his knees in front of you, manhandling your body to reach around and rip the thong off of you, then behind your back to unclasp your bra. He tosses them both behind him, his eyes focused on your body as he leans forward, a near-snarl on his lips. Every nerve in you is vibrating with want, and when he takes your breast in his hand, kneading roughly, you cry out at the sensation of his touch. “Your body is just beginning to realize who it belongs to now, sweetheart. It belongs to me.”

He bends to take your nipple between his lips, and every flick of his tongue is sending sparks through you as if you were connected to a live wire. He roughly spreads your thighs, his fingers gliding through your slick, and he shoves two fingers inside you to the knuckle as his thumb presses hard circles against your clit. You feel as though liquid fire shoots through your veins, and you scream until your voice cracks as the almost painful intensity of your orgasm wracks your body. He nips hard at your nipple, sending another wave through you, and you are sobbing, completely out of control as he continues, merciless. “One more, baby girl, and then I’ll fuck you. You want that, don’t you? Want this cock inside you, want another load of my seed inside you? Make you mine forever?”

“Yes!” you scream hoarsely. “Yes, yes, please, Dean… Please…” The part of you deep inside that’s crying out, telling you to stop, to run, curls up into a helpless heap and dies, and you let the desire take you completely. “I want you, Dean. I want to be yours. Please make me yours…”

He grins, malevolent satisfaction on his darkly handsome face, and his eyes go black. “Come for me. Now,” he growls, his fingertips rubbing harshly at your sweet spot, his thumb pressing relentlessly at your clit. You throw your head back, your vision whites out and you can’t even scream, your mouth open in a silent agony of ecstasy.

When you regain consciousness of your surroundings, you find yourself on the floor, Dean standing over you as he languidly pumps his hand over his rigid member. His eyes are still black, but you find that it doesn’t frighten you. He goes to his knees between your legs, then lowers himself over you, his cock prodding at you, and he trains his eyes on your face as he drives himself in to the limit, gripping your hips, bruises forming beneath his fingers. “Mine,” he says, his teeth clenched, his hips pounding you in a punishing rhythm. “Say it!” he orders, and you whimper in both fear and arousal.

“I’m yours.”

“Say it again!” His face is the picture of evil, dark and beautiful, and you close your eyes, throwing your head back against the floor, screaming with everything that’s left in you.

“I’m yours!”

 

Three weeks later…

You stretch lazily, the sweet ache of a well-used body making you moan a little. You’re naked beneath the sheets, as you are most of the time. Dean likes you that way.

You look down at your left breast. The brand Dean marked you with is almost completely healed, a small, delicate rune that tells every other demon in existence that you are his, and his alone. And, you are quite sure, would serve to let him find you, if you had any desire to run.

You have no desire to run.

He comes out of the bathroom, his hair damp from the shower, freshly clothed. “I’ve got some work to do. Be a good girl, and we’ll play when I get back.” His eyes are lustful as they scan over your exposed breasts, lingering on the brand. “You look so damn good with my mark on you.”

“Hurry back, Dean. I miss you when you’re gone.” You smile sweetly at him, and his eyes narrow a bit as he adjusts himself.

“You make it hard for me to leave, baby girl.”

Your voice takes on a teasing tone. “What’s wrong, did the big bad demon bite off more than he can chew?”

“We’ll see who can handle what when I get back. And no touching yourself while I’m gone. You hear me?”

You pout a little. “Fine. Spoilsport.”

He comes to your side and sits at the edge of the bed, taking you in his arms as you reach for him. “I knew I made a good choice when I picked you.” He kisses you hard, his tongue driving against yours with barely restrained passion, then pulls back reluctantly. “I’ll be back soon.”

You lay back, watching as he disappears. You can barely remember your old life, but you can’t imagine being more content than you are now. You smile, and stretch again, and let your fingers drift down over your body. After all, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And if he does know, well… the punishment will be more pleasurable than the crime.


End file.
